


Ah, I wonder how (You can be so pretty)

by sunburst_city



Series: You could be king but watch the queen conquer [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: 5+1 Things, F/M, Fem!Iwaizumi, Female Iwaizumi Hajime, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Swearing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, but like very minimal, i cringed, quench your thirst tooru, way too much fluff for me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-08-30 17:52:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8543050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunburst_city/pseuds/sunburst_city
Summary: 5 times Iwaizumi Hajime’s clothing has spelled trouble for Oikawa Tooru, and 1 time it didn’t.AKA the pining of Oikawa Tooru as told through 6 clothing-related tropes(AKA a continuation of the AU where Iwaizumi is born a girl)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Save Oikawa he's hopeless.
> 
> (Title is a translation of lyrics from VERY NICE by SEVENTEEN)

一。  
Iwa-chan is wearing a tank top again, one of those ones she's overly fond of, with comic book prints and really large armholes that gape open until the bottom of her ribcage and expose her toned arms and whatever sports bra she decided to wear that day (today, it's her black and Seijou turquoise one. Tooru fucking hates his life). Tooru has had nightmares heavily involving those tops. He’s dreamt of slipping his hands through those armholes, of running them up the length of Iwaizumi’s torso until he reaches the band of her bra and his fingers slip underneath. Even now, as the two of them lounge lazily on their backs on the porch of his back yard in one of the warmest summer days yet, he's tempted to trace every inch of exposed skin, or better yet, follow the lines of her biceps with his tongue.

So sue him, he's a guy with a healthy appreciation for the human body, and as far as human bodies go, Iwaizumi Hajime's was nothing short of a damn work of art: bronze skin, toned legs that look amazing in volleyball shorts, and abs and arm muscles that put most of the guys in Tooru's volleyball team to shame. Tooru has always been partial to an athletic build over the thin, fairy-type that most girls in his school seem to think guys like, so it stands to reason that he'd be attracted to Iwaizumi's physique.

Then again, it might just be because he has an enormous crush on Iwaizumi.

Tooru thinks he should get a damn award, because it takes a stellar amount of acting skills to keep someone as perceptive as Iwa-chan from knowing that her best friend has a massive crush on her. It's already hard enough as it is, but when it's paired with The Tank Tops, it becomes an entirely different ballgame.

At least Tooru only has to suffer The Tank Tops during the summer. He doesn't know what he would do with himself if Iwaizumi wore these all year round. At least during the summer, he can blame his flushed cheeks on the heat.

"Iwa-chaaaaaan," he whines.

"What." She replies lazily, not bothering to even look at him.

"It's hot. Water."

"This is your house, dumbass. You get it."

"Iwa-chaaaaaaaan—"

"Ugh, fine, you spoiled brat."

Iwaizumi sits up and lifts her arms above her head in a stretch. Tooru's mouth dries at the arch of her back. He's unable to keep himself from gawking. Luckily, Iwaizumi doesn't notice. She just goes inside in search of water for them.

Although he hears his mother greet Iwaizumi in the kitchen and chat with her, Tooru hopes Iwaizumi returns soon. He's gonna need that water.

二。  
He doesn't realize there's anything amiss until he's in the locker room, pulling on a shirt that's a bit tight on him.

At first, he comes to the horrifying conclusion that he's somehow gotten fat, but a closer inspection makes him realize that the shirt isn't actually his, which brings him to his next problem.

He could just wear his official jersey for practice that day, but they have a practice match this afternoon, and practice matches mean they wear their turquoise shirt. Hanamaki tried getting away with it once, and Coach had him doing suicide runs until he dropped.

“Hey, captain, let’s go." His vice-captain says, already in his practice gear. Tooru quickly switches the tight shirt on his back with his spare jersey. He grabs the discarded shirt and stands up.

“Start warming up without me, Mattsun. I’ll be right back!” Before Matsukawa can ask where he’s going, he’s already headed out of the club room and jogging towards the girls’ gym.

Finding Iwaizumi among the other players of the female volleyball team isn't all that difficult. Tooru may have teased her about her height ever since he shot past her in middle school; but she is still one of the taller girls on her team. She's by one of the nets, spiking to the players doing receiving drills.

Iwaizumi has always had a fondness for shirts one size larger for volleyball practice, but Tooru’s shirt nearly swallows her whole. The neck hole gapes to expose her collarbones, and the sleeves keep falling from the rolls Iwaizumi put them in on her shoulders.

Tooru has a handful of seconds to appreciate her in his shirt before he shakes his head and stubbornly wills his attraction away. Coach is going to have his head if he doesn't show up soon.

“Iwa-chan!” He calls out. When Iwaizumi spots him, she gets Ayuzawa to take her place before jogging over to him.

"What're you doing here?" She asks.

“We switched shirts." Tooru says, holding up the shirt in his hand. This isn't the first time they've accidentally switched practice shirts. There isn't any distinguishing mark that separates the girls' team shirts from the boys' ones. And with Iwaizumi's love of baggy practice shirts and their frequent sleepovers at each other's houses, their shirts get mixed up in the laundry pretty often.

Iwaizumi’s eyes widen fractionally in realization. She pulls up her—Oikawa’s—shirt to examine it. “Huh. No wonder it was looser than normal. Come on."

She pulls Oikawa by the wrist to a more secluded area of the gym. She takes the shirt from Tooru's grip and makes a circular motion with her finger pointing downward. Having been at the end of this gesture often enough, Tooru wordlessly turns around, simultaneously covering Iwaizumi’s figure and giving her some privacy while she changed.

Iwaizumi’s teammates stare dumbfoundedly at them, and Tooru is momentarily confused until he realizes, oh, right, this might not be normal behavior. He forgets, sometimes, that some things that come naturally to him and Iwaizumi (like changing clothes within two feet of each other) aren't exactly common practice among friends of the opposite sex. Having known each other since they were little kids has been the cause of many blurred lines. Unsure of what to do, Tooru's just waves at Iwaizumi's teammates and smiles.

“Sorry to disturb practice, Iwa-chan." He tells her, back still turned to her. "Normally I would've just worn my jersey, but we have a practice match with Datekou today. You know how anal Coach gets about that stuff."

“It’s fine. S'my fault too for not checking which shirts we grabbed from the laundry." Her voice is slightly muffled. Iwaizumi taps him on the shoulder once she finishes switching shirts. Tooru turns around and takes the shirt offered to him.

"Thanks, see you after practice!"

From there, it's a mad dash to get back to the club room, change into his shirt, and head to the gym for warm-ups. Tooru arrives at the gym just in time for Coach Irihita to welcome the Datekougyou Boys Volleyball Team.

The practice match goes without a hitch. Tooru tries using his more powerful jump serve, hoping to fine-tune his control over it before the Inter-High. Datekou's players don't manage to receive any of them cleanly, but Tooru is still not content with the amount of control he has on the serve.

His third successful vicious serve gets them a lead of 13-10. By then, they are already breaking into a sweat. Tooru wipes his sweat from his face with his sleeve, and he stops in his tracks.

He didn’t notice it before because he was putting his shirt on hurriedly, but his shirt smells a little different from the usual laundry detergent his mom or Auntie Iwa uses. Tooru lifts the collar of his shirt up and moves to wipe his face with it. Subtly, he takes a whiff, and he nearly buckles at the light aroma of soap, powder, and an earthy tone he's associated for years with Iwa-chan, like the forest behind their houses after a rainy day.

Oh, god, his shirt smells like Iwa-chan.

Tooru can’t land any serve within bounds for the rest of the set.

三。  
"Why aren't you guys in yukata?" Tooru complains as he stops in front of Matsukawa and Hanamaki, both in casual shirts and jeans. Next to them, Tooru's own dark blue yukata sticks out like a sore thumb. While he isn't participating in any performance or event during this festival, he still believes that the festival experience isn't complete without dressing in traditional garb. Clearly, Matsukawa and Hanamaki don't feel the same, the killjoys.

“Where’s Iwaizumi?" Matsukawa asks instead of replying to Tooru's question.

“Yeah. Figured you two would show up together since you live right next to each other." Hanamaki adds, munching on some ikayaki.

“Kana-nee-chan got a hold of her.” Tooru says, referring to his sister-in-law. "She was visiting with Takeru today, and when she found out we were going to the festival, she wouldn't let Iwa-chan leave until she dolls her up."

They talk about the upcoming Inter High while they wait for Iwaizumi to arrive. Some of the other teams in Miyagi are proving to be more tenacious this year. Practices have begun to get longer and even more intensive as they practice specific strategies for specific types of teams while still building up their own skillset. Matsukawa does his duty as vice captain and tells their captain not to overdo his solo practice, to which Tooru squawks "I don't need a fourth mother, Mattsun! Between my own mom, Iwa-chan, and Auntie Iwa, I get nagged enough as it is!"

"Hey! Sorry I'm late. Can't run in these damn things." Tooru hears from behind him. He turns around, prepared to whine about how long Iwaizumi took and how Matsukawa was kept nagging him while she was gone.

When he turns around, though, he forgets how to breathe.

Iwaizumi is frowning at her geta like they'd just told her Godzilla isn't real. Her yukata is a new one Tooru's never seen before, a beautiful white with leaves printed in shades that brought attention to the green of her eyes. Kana-chan probably took a brush to Iwaizumi's hair. He can spot light traces of makeup—just some concealer, mascara, and lipgloss—on her face.

Hanamaki elbows him roughly to get him to stop staring. It works somewhat, though Tooru suspects it's actually the Terrible Two's snickering that snaps him out of it.

"Finally!" Without warning, Tooru grabs her wrist and starts for the game stalls, pulling her along. "Bet I can catch more goldfish than you!"

Iwaizumi immediately protests. "No. You know what your mom said: no more goldfish. You have an entire tank at home."

He pouts even though she can't see his face. "The shooting game, then!"

"The old man running that stall rigs the game and you know it."

"Aww, just because you've never won anything from him doesn't mean it's rigged! Don't worry, Iwa-chan, I'll make sure to give you the prize I win." That gets taunts from Hanamaki and Matsukawa.

"Just for that, I am going to thoroughly enjoy kicking your ass, Shittykawa." She growls.

Tooru makes sure to stay in front of Iwaizumi as he pulls her along, if only not to look at her and suddenly forget his own name again.

(In the end, Iwa-chan absolutely wipes the floor with Tooru in the shooting game, and she wins a cute alien plushie she immediately hands to Tooru. It's worth Hanamaki and Matsukawa's jeers.)

四。  
"Oh my god, Iwa-chan. What happened?"

When Iwaizumi opens the door that day, Tooru is understandably confused. While Iwaizumi has never been particularly fashion-forward, she has always dressed in clothing that flatter her.

The neon pink jumper, combined with a huge, lumpy coat with orange and green patches that not even Tooru's great-grandfather would've worn, and bright banana yellow rain boots, is decidedly not typical Iwaizumi wear. Even Tooru, who's been known to turn up in embarrassingly heinous attires, is cringing.

"I lost to Hanamaki." That is definitely a pout on her face. Tooru definitely doesn't think it's cute.

Fuck. It's so cute.

"Hold on," Tooru's brows furrowed in confusion as Iwaizumi's words catch up to him. "He beat you at arm wrestling? Really?"

Her pout becomes more prominent. "No, he bet that Kunimi would blush like a middle school girl if I compliment him on his improving skills as a volleyball player."

"Ah. That makes more sense." Love-related bets are the only time Makki ever wins against Iwaizumi. Tooru's best friend is notoriously dense when it comes to things like this.

Case in point: "It's not my fault I didn't know Kunimi had a crush on me." She says, picking at the coat sleeve.

Tooru snorts. "Iwa-chan, my whole team has had a crush on you at some point." Granted, some were further gone than others, but it the statement is true nevertheless.

She looks affronted. "Why didn't you say so?"

"I thought you knew! My team isn't exactly subtle, Iwa-chan." She grumbles something under her breath. Tooru looks at her outfit again. "How long do you have to wear this?"

"The whole day." She grimaces. "I fucking hate Hanamaki. Where the fuck did he even get these clothes?"

Tooru thinks back to the boys' trip through the flea market last weekend (so this was what that trip was for. Tooru thought Hanamaki lost his mind when he kept picking up items of clothing and delightedly exclaiming about how ugly each one was), remembers the... Eccentric seller Makki chatted up, and decides Iwaizumi is better off not knowing. Instead, he jerks his head in the direction of his house. "In that case, wanna just come over and marathon Captain America?"

Iwaizumi pauses. "Didn't you want to watch the new movie today?"

He shrugs. "We could always watch it some other time. Look, you have to wear that the entire day, right? Knowing Makki, he put some clause about you having to be out of your house." Iwaizumi's irritated grumble confirms this. "If we go home, you'd still be out of your house, and we'd still get to watch a movie like we planned."

Tooru is thankful neither of the Married Memes he calls his ace and vice captain know how much time Iwaizumi spends in the Oikawa household. He has a feeling that if they knew, they would've banned Iwaizumi from holing up in his house as well.

She smirks wryly. "You sure you aren't just embarrassed to be seen with me, Oikawa?"

For a moment, Tooru just looks at her. She is in possibly the ugliest outfit ever, but his heart is beating impossibly harder against his ribcage and he still finds her beautiful beyond reasonable doubt.

"I could never be embarrassed by you, Iwa-chan."

"Is that a challenge?"

"...please don't."

五。  
Tooru can't remember the last time his nerves were this frayed, not in Iwa-chan's home. It certainly doesn't help that Auntie Iwa is sitting across from him on the dining table, smiling that shit-eating grin that Tooru has come to dread coming from an Iwaizumi. That grin foretold some form of embarrassment coming his way, and Tooru isn't sure if he can avert this one.

Hurried footsteps come down the stairs. Tooru turns his head towards the entrance just as Iwaizumi appears before them.

"Hey, you're early." She says. Tooru can't reply.

Iwa-chan is in a dress.

It's a simple dark green linen tunic, perfect for the spring-going-on-summer weather. The skirt flirts with her thighs, showing toned, tan legs and muscled calves. She's in plain black socks, and Tooru knows she's going to wear her usual white sneakers when they leave, but he thinks they'll make her outfit cuter and more Iwa-chan. She doesn't wear any jewelry except for the corded friendship bracelet on her left wrist, matching the one Tooru has right now on his right.

Tooru has a hard time swallowing around the lump in his throat. "Wow, Iwa-chan, it's a good thing you don't wear skirts very often apart from our uniform."

Iwaizumi gets this look that's halfway towards being offended, and only then does he realize how his sentence could be taken. He flails his arms around as he blusters to explain. "Ah—! I mean, Iwa-chan is already really pretty, but Iwa-chan in a dress is really cute, and that could be really bad, you know? You'd constantly give me heart attacks, and where would my team be without their captain, you know—"

"Tooru!" Iwaizumi interrupts, shaking him by the shoulders. Behind Tooru, her mother is doubled over on the table, making no attempts at hiding her loud laughter. "Relax, Trashykawa. I get it. Man, how is it possible that your fangirls think you're suave?"

"Mean, Iwa-chan." He says, but the way it comes out of his mouth is too soft and entirely too adoring to resemble anything like a complaint. Iwaizumi must catch on, because her cheeks pinken. Her hands slide down from his shoulders to grab him by the hand.

"Come on." She pulls to the front door. "I'm heading out, mom!"

"I'll have her home by eleven, Auntie!" Tooru says in farewell.

"Oh, no, keep her out as long as you want." Auntie Iwa replies, making Iwa-chan snort.

"I can't believe you would say that to the boy going on a date with your daughter."

Tooru visibly brightens at the word _date_. He's been thinking about this night since last week, when a night of talking about uncertain futures led to brutally honest confessions whispered in the dark. Sometimes, when he wakes in the morning, Tooru thinks he's imagined the entire thing, imagined Iwaizumi's lips brushing against his temple and her arms curling firmly around him as he fell asleep to the steady rise and fall of her chest. It's only when he shows up on the Iwaizumi's doorstep to walk to school with Iwaizumi, and Iwa comes out of her home with an uncharacteristically shy greeting and a hand already stretched out to slip into his own, that he is assured of how real everything is.

And now, they're finally going on a date—their first date since finding out Iwa-chan likes Tooru as much as he likes her—and Tooru is beyond elated.

"Itterasshai, you two." Iwaizumi's mother watches from the door frame as they slip on their shoes in the genkan.

"Ittekimasu." They both say, smiling at her.

"So, where are we going?" She asks as Tooru closes the door behind him.

"There's a Godzilla exhibit in the shopping district near Johzenji, with props and replicas of the Godzilla designs used in the last three movies. We can go there, have dinner, and get back in time to catch the last screening of Train to Busan."

Iwaizumi's eyes sparkle, and there's just something about Iwaizumi Hajime that makes Tooru bare his entire heart and soul to her unrestrainedly.

"You do look beautiful, you know." He says softly. "You always do."

Iwaizumi flushes. Fuck Tooru, she's so, so unbearably cute, and he's so far gone for her. She groans and covers her face.

"Oh my god, are you going to be this disgusting the entire time we're together?"

Tooru laughs. "Get used to it, Iwa-chan. I plan on staying together forever, if I can help it."

"Oh my god, please stop."

一。  
Tooru wakes up feeling a distinct draft and the insane urge to pee.

He blearily stumbles out of bed and into the adjoining bathroom. When he comes back, he pauses by the bathroom's doorway, taking the time to admire the woman in front of him.

Hajime is sprawled stomach-down on their bed, arms up underneath the pillow her head rests on, revealing bare breasts pressed tantalizingly against the sheets. Their blanket has ridden down, exposing the smooth, tan muscles of her shoulders, back and waist.

What a damn gorgeous sight to wake up to every morning. Even after years of living together, Tooru still marvels at the sight.

The notification light on Hajime's phone is blinking. Tooru heads over to the dresser on Hajime's side and taps the screen awake. Once he sees Kuroo's text about a cancelled practice, his smile grows wider. He sets Hajime's phone down and crawls back into bed, slotting himself beside Hajime. Hajime stirs at his movements.

"Go back to sleep, Iwa-chan." He tells her, pressing a kiss to her temple.

"What time s'it." Hajime mumbles, crawling closer toward his warm body.

"Around six in the morning."

"Nnnn," She hums, burying her face into his neck. Her lips purse slightly and mold around his skin, not quite a kiss but definitely not a coincidental brush, laced with languid affection. It makes Tooru unbearably, embarrassingly giddy with the knowledge that Hajime does so instinctively, even in the haze of sleep. "No practice today?"

"No, and you don't either. Tetsu-chan texted." Hajime hums again.

"You better not be thinking about going to the gym later," She says, eyes still closed, "They just announced the lineup yesterday."

Tooru looks over to their discarded clothing on the floor. His eyes are easily drawn to a crumpled jacket, bright white with a red circle for the Japanese flag underneath the name on the back. Tooru better make sure he and Hajime don't accidentally switch jackets later.

"No, I like where I am right now." He lives for this: this slow, sleepy affection - sensual and honest and incredibly comfortable. Granted, the volleyball court will always make his blood thrum, but this? Slow mornings next to Hajime with the promise of a bright future ahead? This makes him feel alive like nothing else.

He can feel her smile curve against his collarbone. "Good," is what she says, but Tooru can hear what she doesn't say:

_Me too._

**Author's Note:**

> Give me Kuroo AKA the really cute manager/assistant coach of Japan's National Women's Volleyball Team.
> 
> Iwa-chan and Oikawa would fucking love Train to Busan don't fight me on this.


End file.
